In Loving Memory
by waifu1792
Summary: Coping with death is difficult. Coping with the deaths of comrades and lovers moreso. But coping with the deaths of loved ones you shouldn't remember while dealing with a particularly nosy ninja is purgatory, just ask Squall. Angst. SxY, hint of SxR


AN: Hello, this is my second(?) fic, at least that I've posted. It toys with the idea of the Square Enix crew having memories of their stories/lives from the Final Fantasy games and how they deal with it. Hope you guys like it! Read and review, if you're so inclined. I would greatly appreciate it.

**Warning(s): Strong sexuality, a bit of violence, mega angst, and underage sex (Yuffie, eternally jailbait)**

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy or any of the characters.

* * *

><p>Squall Leonhart is a proud man. So much so, that he will not admit even the slightest fear of the Heartless, whose gleaming teeth and sharpened claws have ripped everything away from him. He does not admit to the cold-sweat, torn sheets nightmares that leave him hollow-eyed and shaking. He does not admit to remembering.<p>

Instead, he wields his Gunblade ferociously, hacking apart Heartless and training until he can no longer move. He lays there then, body quaking in pain, and wills his heavy eyelids to stay open. The shards of his memories, too sharp to do more than cut and tear, fight for a place in his consciousness. He loses the battle prematurely.

He relives the end of his world; sees the horrified faces of those he vowed to protect, and can do nothing. Squall watches as his comrades' skins are torn from their bodies, agonized screams spilling from bloodied lips. He fights beside them, though their mangled corpses fall faster than he can cut down their strange, malevolent aggressors. He remembers his hope for survival waning even faster than the hope for victory had as he throws himself in front of a blow aimed for Rinoa. His heroics are rewarded by a nasty set of claws slicing right through him.

Rinoa falls shortly after.

He looks at her then, ivory skin spattered with blood not entirely her own, and is proud. He thinks in that moment that he has never seen a more beautiful woman and he is ashamed of his failure to protect her.

"_It's…n-not …your f-fault …"_ she rasps painfully, crimson trickling down the side of her mouth as her dark eyes lose their light.

He watches as her head is severed by a Heartless, fighting futilely to do something, anything. Next, there is pain, and then, nothing.

"Squallie-Paulie!" a loud, all too familiar voice revives him.

He feels weight on his chest, just heavy enough to raise alarm, and it takes a few seconds to recognize its source. Yuffie Kisaragi straddles him, her slanted eyes and megawatt grin invading his already violated personal space. Had any other female awakened him in such a suggestive fashion, he might have blushed or been more of a stoic bastard, but she is young, awkward, irrepressible Yuffie and Squall Leonhart knows that battles are best when picked sparingly.

"It's Leon." He grumbles as he unceremoniously pushes her off of him.

"Yeah, yeah." she replies dismissively, dusting herself off as she stands.

"Anywho Leon, Aerith sent me to collect you for the evening. I don't know why we don't just leave ya out here, might teach you to enjoy my company." The teen remarks, turning her back to him as he collects his bearings and the few things he'd brought with him.

Leon doesn't acknowledge her comment, simply walks passed her as she continues on one of her usual rants, something about how they don't talk enough and 'gee isn't it a little warm to be wearing leather pants?'

"-don't need to keep doing this to yourself and- Hey, I'm talkin' over here!" she shouts indignantly from behind him.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." he says to her deadpanned, Gunblade slung casually over his shoulder as he spares her a sideways glance.

In a flash she is in front of him, hands on her slim hips and eyes glinting dangerously. Leon is reminded of the hardened warrior that lays beneath the veneer of the girl not quite a woman and pretends that he is unaffected.

"I'm not in the mood, Squall Leonhart." she hisses, tone uncharacteristically low.

He raises an eyebrow in surprise before scowling at the tiny ninja. He knows what she wants but he's not in the mood to humor a child. If he were more humble and honest he would admit to not knowing how.

"You see, that's your problem Squall, you never want to talk about shit." She begins after a long, pregnant pause.

"Yuffie…" he murmurs in warning.

Leon usually ignores the girl, usually pretends not to notice how uncannily accurate her rants are most times. Yuffie's problem is she's too damn perceptive.

"What can't handle the truth? Can't handle the fact that you're obsessed with denying that you have nightmares like the rest of us?"

"Stop it." He growls, eyes glacier cold.

"Of course you can't. You just keep stuffing it deeper and deeper and the next thing you know, you're banging some dumb teenager in the library, though Leviathan knows neither of us read much, because you just won't talk about it."

"Yuffie!"

"And where do I fit into this, hmm? Do I remind you that much of your precious Rinoa, or is this your screwed idea of wooing me? Do you see her in my hair, my eyes, or do you just like calling out her name as you fuck-mmph!"

The rest of her one-sided argument is muffled by Leon's mouth. He knows she is baiting him, trying to get him to 'open up' or at the very least respond to the things he'll never say. He responds, though it isn't the reaction she wants, isn't the emotional catharsis she desires. It is a kiss, all teeth and tongue, violent and angry and it is the only way Leon knows to shut Yuffie up. He lets go of the water bottle in his hand and his Gunblade, wrapping his arms around her flailing body. She struggles futilely for a few moments but he holds tight, afraid that if he lets go those acrid truths, too old and raw for a girl barely seventeen, will spew forth.

Her fingers dig into his scalp and yank at his hair as she yields, her teeth clashing against his in her frustration. He grabs her shoulders roughly and shoves her against the bark of a tree a few steps behind her. He doesn't think of how inappropriate his manhandling of the ninja is, doesn't think of how young she is. All that matters is the feel of her skin as he slides his hand beneath the fabric of her short top, the soft smell of her hair, the taste of her blood on his lips.

They pull away for breath. For a moment, Leon sees Rinoa, and it is her dark hair that sloppily frames her faintly flushing face and already bruising lips. The lithe body and clear ivory skin are hers, until he looks into her eyes. They are deep pools of indigo, the color not quite what he remembers but nearly close enough.

The image fades and it is Yuffie in front of him, with her short body and shorter hair. Yuffie, with the pained, wizened eyes of an old woman and the face of a girl little more than a child. He cups her cheek almost lovingly, her skin smooth and warm and so alive that he wants nothing more than to bury himself within her and forget. Leon knows she'll let him, knows she does this to comfort him out of a warped sense of loyalty.

He is too proud to admit his lingering guilt, too proud admit how much he needs her comfort. His pride, however, does not prevent him from taking everything he can from her.

XxXxX Lemon…Read At Your Discretion XxXxX

He kisses her again, this time desperate and too eager. He feels her tiny hands roaming the muscles beneath his shirt, rubbing here, scraping there, and he is done with senseless foreplay. Neither of them is very good at it anyway.

Yuffie and he fumble with the buckles of his belts, her shorts already discarded as her more nimble fingers free him from his pants. He is almost painfully hard and as his gloved hand wanders from beneath her shirt to beneath her panties; the slick warmth there tells him he is not alone in his anticipation. With a yank, her panties are torn off and his hand slides up her thigh to cup her rear as he lifts her and positions himself.

With a grunt, he slams into her, ignoring her sharp gasp. Yuffie is hot and tight but Rinoa's memory still ghosts across his consciousness. She wraps a leg around his hips, her other leg bent with her foot pressed against the tree, as he continues his almost brutal thrusting.

It is not their first time, not by a long shot, and Leon can't remember the details of how or why it happened to begin with. He suspects it had something to do with why she is still pissed at him but doesn't care enough to figure it out.

"You're…not…t-the only one that…hah...remembers…" she manages to stammer between gasps.

He bites down hard on her shoulder as his memories threaten to surface. Pulling her top up, he bends down to flick a nipple with his tongue, slowly enclosing it in his mouth as his free hand fondles her other small breast. Her back arches into him, hips meeting his in an increasingly frenzied rhythm and he feels his end fast approaching. Leon reaches between her legs, gloved fingers rubbing the bundle of nerves there, and makes her cum just as he fills her with the warmth of his seed.

XxXxX End Lemon XxXxX

In one glorious, brief moment, Leon feels…alive…and the memories and guilt fade into the far recesses of his mind.

He leans against Yuffie, both of them quivering as tremors rack their bodies. Her thin arms cling beneath his shirt, the burn of her scratches on his back a reminder of what had just transpired. He almost feels guilty that the name that passed his lips was not hers, but that of a dead woman. Almost.

Yuffie extricates herself first and though it has always been this way, he is nonetheless somewhat surprised. She grabs his water bottle, lying neglected on the ground, and rinses herself before dressing.

"…I don't love you." He says to her back, pulling up his pants and straightening his shirt.

"Nor I you." She replies in that same bittersweet, wistful tone she uses when her guard is down and she is tired of pretending.

"This doesn't change anything." He states severely, like he always has, and he thinks he hears a humorless chuckle from the ninja.

"Not a thing, Squallie-Paullie!" she giggles animatedly as she turns to face him, flashing a smile that is all sunshine and no truth.

He nearly sighs as she skips ahead of him twirling shuriken and humming to herself playfully. If he had ever doubted her acting skills or prowess as a ninja, he is reminded again of how thoroughly she has constructed her childish persona. His eyes pick up the bruises he has left on her lips, upper arms, and thigh, along with the scrapes on her lower back from the tree and the bite mark on her shoulder. He knows what will happen when they reach the castle, knows the exact profanities Cid will utter, the concerned look Aerith will send the younger girl, and the glare Cloud will send him. Leon knows the outlandish recounting Yuffie will give of her attempt to sneak up on him, knows that Cid and Aerith and Cloud will believe every word of it because, despite any evidence to the contrary, the story is so much like the Yuffie they know.

Yuffie will lie…and he will let her.

He is too proud to do anything else.

* * *

><p>AN: Thinking about doing a companion piece from Yuffie's POV. If you'd like that, please let me know. I like the idea of Yuffie as having a bit of angst to flesh her out, it makes her more interesting. I always thought that it was strange that Yuffie, as a ninja, seems so childish and naïve. I understand that it's part of her characterization, but I like to think that she uses her youth and charisma (for lack of a better word) to manipulate the people around her on some level. Not that she's malicious, I just like to see her as being more self-aware…I'll get off my soap box now. ^_^ Anyways, I hope it wasn't a waste of your time!<p>

P.S. Squall doesn't make for a very romantic partner, does he? Haha... there's something wrong with me.


End file.
